


Promise?

by mechanicalreproductions



Category: Everyman HYBRID
Genre: Angst, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2020-01-10 21:04:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18415829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mechanicalreproductions/pseuds/mechanicalreproductions
Summary: It's not as easy as it sounds.





	Promise?

**Author's Note:**

> This is a pretty short one. Obvious CW for self harm, although nothing graphic is described. Enjoy.

“Promise me you won't cut anymore?”

 

Jeff had heard that line too many times during his high school years. First, it was his parents. They sat him down, teary-eyed with shock, and asked for his promise- “or we might have to send you to a hospital for a while.” Jeff agreed, because he didn't know what else to do. After that conversation, he went back to his bedroom and, as soon as he figured his parents were asleep for the night, sliced through his skin again. Only this time, he made the locations less obvious. His parents began routinely checking his room for knives or razors, but no matter how many times they found him out, they never did send him to that hospital they talked about. 

 

When Alex asked him to make that same promise, Jeff agreed again. This time, however, he was a little more worried with trying to follow through. Alex was someone he didn't want to disappoint. But, just like last time, he had to resort to lying when he realized he couldn't keep his word. At least, he was easier to keep secrets from than their parents were.

 

By the time his girlfriend had noticed a few fresh cuts alongside old scars, and asked him that dreaded question, he knew that it just wasn't enough. He tried to explain to her that it didn't work that way, “I'm sorry, Jessa. I'll try my best, but I just can't promise,” but his heart broke when he saw the pain in her eyes intensively at that answer. He took a deep breath, and he promised. He knew perfectly well that when he wore sweatshirts in eighty-degree weather or when he insisted on keeping his shirt on during sex, that she realized what was going on. He thought she must hate him for lying, but he just didn't know what else to do. 

 

Now, on Vinny’s couch and frozen with fear, Jeff was anticipating the question that weighed him down for all of his teenage years.

 

“What happened?” Vinny asked, for the second time, referring to a bloody scab that reopened on Jeff’s forearm. Jeff had absent-mindedly peeked down his sleeve to investigate the problem, catching his friend’s attention.

 

When Jeff didn't answer- frozen, trying to quickly think up an excuse- Vinny breathed, “Oh, god.”

 

“... What?”

 

“Jeff, we… offered to help. We know you've been having a lot of problems since your parents died.”

 

Jeff sighed, “Look, Vin. I'm sorry. I'm… fine, I'll be fine.”

 

“You're not! I don't know how long ago you did this, but-”

 

“Last night.”

 

Vinny paused, a hurt expression on his face. Jeff immediately knew why- just last night they'd been texting, playing video games online, and just generally having a good time. Now, all that probably felt deceitful to him.

 

“Last… night… and you're still bleeding. You're not fine.”

 

“I'm sorry, Vin.”

 

“Just please,” he took a deep breath, “promise not to hurt yourself any more?”

 

This was Jeff’s breaking point, for whatever reason. Maybe it was because he'd heard it too many times before, and he knew that this conversation would end with an empty promise per usual. No, not this time.

 

“No, Vinny, I won't promise.”

 

“You- what?”

 

“It doesn't fucking work that way,” he kept his voice low, but it was filling with venom, “I can't just decide to stop. Do you think I would be doing this if I could?”

 

“Woah, dude,” Vinny backed off a bit, “I'm just worried. I don't want you to get hurt.”

 

“I don't care! I'm sick of hearing that over and over and over again, when I can't do anything about it. I feel like complete shit already, Vin. I don't need you to make me feel like this is my fault. I’ve been trying for fucking years to quit, and it's just not happening.”

 

“Look, Jeff,” Vinny’s voice cracked, giving Jeff a twinge of guilt, “You're my best friend. Am I not allowed to be hurt that you've been going through this, without telling anyone?”

 

Jeff paused, taking a deep breath, “Yeah. You're allowed to feel bad, but… I don't think this is the best time to tell me how bad you feel. I've been going through this shit since my freshman year of highschool. I stopped for a long time, but after my parents died… I don't know… the urge just came back. I really can't carry the guilt of making you feel bad on top of everything else.”

 

This seemed to strike a chord with Vinny. He nodded, somberly, “You're right. I'm sorry, Jeff. I just really want you not to do this anymore.”

 

“I don't want to do this anymore, either.”

 

“I don't want you to have to… to go to a hospital, or something like that.”

 

Jeff tensed up, reminded of his parents’ empty threats of hospitalizing him over and over again, “I'm not going to a hospital. I'm not… going to kill myself.”

 

Vinny nodded solemnly, seemingly aware of how that suggestion hurt Jeff, “Then… why do it? I’ve never really… known anyone who cut, but I've read about self harm and-”

 

“Pretty much everything you read online is bullshit. It's not something angsty and poetic,” Jeff made air-quotes, “like, ‘outward pain distracts you from inner pain’ or ‘want my appearance to match the way I feel’. It's because hurting yourself in times of emotional distress releases dopamine in your brain- and then you get addicted to that release. It's as simple as that. That's why I can't choose to stop.” 

 

“Wow… okay,” Vinny muttered, speaking slowly, probably just trying to take this information in, “I never thought of it that way. I'm sorry.”

 

“You didn't know any better,” Jeff sighed. As he felt the anger draining from him, every other emotion came rushing in. How could he have snapped at Vinny for trying to help? His eyes started to well up with tears, “I'm so sorry, Vin. I've hurt so many people with this shit, and… and I had stopped for so long. Almost a year. All that progress, down the fuckin’ drain, man.”

 

“No, not at all,” Vinny placed a hand on his shoulder, “I know I don't really know anything about this, but… I do know that addiction doesn't always have a linear recovery. It's not like it is in movies, where like… some guy doing heroin just one day decides to quit and never looks back. Setbacks will happen, but it's not your fault.”

 

Jeff, hot tears still streaming down his face, looked up to meet Vinny’s eyes. Vinny continued, “You can always talk to me and Evan. We've both been worried sick since your parents died- we want to be here for you.”

 

Wordlessly, Jeff buried his face in Vinny’s shoulder, beginning to sob. Vinny pulled him in, and held him tightly. Jeff kept attempting to say more, but he couldn't translate the feelings floating around his head into coherent sentences. He wanted to apologize again. He wanted to kick himself for relapsing after so long. He wanted to lament how unfair his life was. He couldn't bring himself to say any of it, though. His sorrow and frustration and physical pain were being soothed by the gentle touch and sweet, familiar smell of his best friend.He only cried harder and harder into his friend’s shirt, until he had to come up to breathe. 

 

“Hey,” Vinny said softly, rubbing Jeff’s shoulder, “It's gonna be alright, man.”

 

Composing himself, Jeff croaked, “I know it will- it's just not right now.”

 

“I know. I'm here for you, though. I know Evan would be too, if you told him.”

 

Jeff swallowed hard, “Thank you- and please don't tell Evan. I will, but… I'm not ready, yet.”

 

“Alright, I won't.”

 

“You promise?”

 

“Promise.”


End file.
